


9) Councils of War

by Munnin



Series: Hugin Chronicles [9]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Three separate groups plan for the conflict ahead





	9) Councils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Red Mist Squad based on characters created by Joe Hogan for the [ The Siren of Dathomir](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3z0kyf53Ds) and [ Panic Over Muunilinst ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3-_EnhMEDE). Stolen, run away with, and abused with his permission.
> 
> The Grey Jedi and Odd Squads are original characters based on members of the CSWCC. The original Argument’s End series can be found [here](http://munnin.dreamwidth.org/tag/grey+jedi+verse).

Three councils were held that night. One in the bunkroom of the Republic flagship Adonis, one on the gym of the Argument’s End. And one on the roof of a shop on Silvestri VII. 

They weren’t councils of war. But they felt as if they should have been. 

The Red Mist squad unpacked and dekitted their armour in the bunkrooms they’d been given aboard the Adonis. 

Red Mist had been told to stay put. And so put they would stay. 

They had time; time to renew their skills, upgrade their gear, some R&R. 

But relaxation was far, far from their minds. Fernie glanced worriedly from their captain to the pacing Crispy. Their lieutenant hadn’t slept and had barely eaten, since the Jedi council ordered them to stand down. And the medic was starting to get seriously concerned. They were designed to go days without food if needed, but any clone knew better than to do it by choice.

“Crispy. Sit. Down.” Fordo ordered, his command voice cutting through even his lieutenant’s abstraction. “We have plans to make.” 

“What plans?” Crispy demanded, sitting despite himself. “They’ve ordered us to stay out of it.” 

“And we will obey that order.” Fordo assured. “But we _will_ assist the team being send to find Hugin.” 

“These Grey Jedi,” Linc asked, his voice soft, “what are they like?”

Fordo shrugged. “I only know what I’ve heard from the Council, and from other troopers. A fringe, special ops team. They have their own troopers, made up from ends of other squads. Survivors. And the ones who don’t fit in. I’ve heard them called the Odds.”

“And they’ll be the ones going after Hugin?” Crispy demanded harshly. “To _apprehend_ and _interrogate_ him?” He spat the words. 

Fordo nodded.

“And we have to help them?” Crispy stalked closer. “Help them _persecute_ him.”

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Crispy demanded, face red with rage, getting in Fordo’s face. 

Fordo straighten up suddenly, nose to nose with Crispy. “So they remember who he is.” He barked. “What he means to us.” 

Crispy sat down very heavily, his rage filled expression blank for with shock, realisation dawning. “Oh.” 

***

There were worlds where hoopball was a serious sport, played with strict and polite rules. 

And then there was how it was played on the Argument’s End. 

Despite there being room for a proper court in the ‘End’s large gym, the game was still played from an open patch of floor with a cut-off circle of pipe hung from the roof as a hoop. 

The hoopball rules on the ‘End were simple – nothing short of blood counted as a foul but any injury impairing a person’s duties would see the offender on scut duty for a month. 

After a particularly _spirited_ game involving Padawan Keyani and Master Jod’i - use of Force was also outlawed. 

For reasons of safety. 

Other people’s mostly.

Other than that, it was pretty much a free-for-all.

The ship was half empty that night so the deck had been taken over by Jedi Commander D’rue Nor-smen and Captain Sera Stringsinger. Three on three. Black Mace squad vs Corvus Squad. One sub, no mercy.

“So, what do you think of the mission the council just sent us?” D’rue asked Tem, his squad’s captain as he caught the ball on the bounce and tossed it at Sera. Black Mace was two points up and it was Corvus’ serve. 

“Looks like a routine extraction.” Tem admitted dubiously, trying to block Zig, Corvus’ heavily scarred tactical officer. There was a brief tangle of feet as Sera feigned left and passed right. “But it feels political.” 

“Feels like a witch-hunt.” Sera muttered darkly, shoulder-checking D’rue as she darted closer to the hoop. It didn’t help that her friend of many years was significantly broader across the shoulders than she was. The proverbial immovable object. “They seriously want us to find and interrogate this trooper Hugin-” 

She cut herself off as she jumped to catch the ball, only to have it smacked out of her hands by the almost entirely silent mass of Rocker, Black Mace’s scout. She growled warmly at him, grinning and nodded to her chief mechanic, Tori. 

“Oh, I’m so on it, cap.” Tori grinned, running at Rocker. The close friendship between the scout and the mechanic counted for a lot on the ship. Just not on the court. “You’re going down, big man!” 

Rocker raised an eyebrow at Tori. The mechanic was slighter than the average clone but quick on his feet. He leapt for the ball, just as Rocker dropped it casually over his own shoulder to D’rue. There was a _whoof_ of exhaled breath as Rocker, just as causally, caught Tori around the middle and almost lovingly laid him flat on the deck.

“Sub!” Sera called as Rocker picked the winded Tori up off the floor and dusted him off. Tori punched Rocker’s shoulder and laughed wheezingly as Corvus medic Lark tagged in. 

“I agree.” D’rue caught the ball on the full as Zig scored. “The council knows the Separatist propaganda is just that.”

“They don’t, boss.” Zig pointed out, blocking Tem. “That’s the point. They know nothing about this lost trooper. About what Hugin might have done, or not done.”

Formality was never a big thing on the ‘End, almost everyone addressed D’rue as _boss_ , unless they had company.

Lark nodded, spinning around Rocker to intercept the ball. “He was declared MIA over a year ago. I acquired medical files from his squad. Crispy, the other trooper on the mission was badly wounded. Their captain had pretty strong grounds to believe Hugin might have been killed in action.”

Sera nodded, losing the passed ball almost immediately to D’rue. “And there are a lot of reasons someone in that situation might not report back to the Republic. Physical or otherwise.”

D’rue scored and tossed the ball back to Lark, signalling Racket, his squad’s heavy artilleryman to sub in while he grabbed some hydro. “You think he might have defected intentionally?” 

Sera shrugged, elbowing the cocky Racket out of the way to jump for the hoop. “Defected isn’t the same as swapped sides. And let’s face it, the tone of those orders was-”

“Unfriendly.” Tem finished, catching the ball as it bounced off the rim, the Corvus players hissing with a missed shot. “The Separatist made a scapegoat of him. It seems like the Republic wants to do the same.” The Odds were loyal to their commanders and each other first, the Senate second. Their relationship with the Jedi council was somewhat… situationally variable. And none of them like being asked to _hunt down_ a lost brother.

“We have orders,” D’rue pointed out, taking over scoring. The scores were pretty even and didn’t show much sign of budging. “But _how_ we carry out those orders is up to us.” 

After all, if they wanted it done by the book, the Council wouldn’t have given the job to them. The Grey Jedi were on the fringe of the Order for a reason. “Recommendation?” 

“We talk to his squad-mates.” Tem answered without hesitation. “I’ve read their captain’s reports but they’re official report. There’s a lot missing. And a lot I wouldn’t have put in if I was him.” 

Zig caught the ball, pausing to spin it on his palm. “His last known location, Silvestri VII. The approach shouldn’t be made by troopers. At the very least, no-one in armour. Reading between the lines of the report, it seemed like the civilian Red Mist spoke to was pretty hostile. Better to take things slowly than go in head-on.” 

“Agreed.” Sera added, nodding to D’rue. “We go. Just me and you, plain-clothed. Nansi and Chrys can mind the farm. Fidelis squad are out with Keyani and Jod’i on exercises. They won’t be back till next week. Let’s take the Night’s Wing, nice and casual, and go talk to the women he was last seen with. Eva Rus is listed as a high-end procurer.” Her lip twisted in a grin. “You know how I love talking shop with other people in the trade. And her sister Rebec is a skin-painter.”

Tem grinned too. “And you have been complaining you wanted more tattoos, boss.”

D’rue give Tem a withering look that utterly failed to abash his captain. “Agreed.” He nodded to Rocker. “But I want scouts on the flank, just in case.” 

Rocker nodded seriously, standing slightly more to attention. 

“So, when?” Zig asked, tossing the ball playfully at Tori who had come over to join the conversation. 

D’rue considered that. “How soon can we get Red Mist here to debrief?”

Zig shrugged, “I’ll call them up and find out.”

***

The third council of war was held on the roof of the shop. Eva had waited till after dinner, till Rebec had finished excitedly talking about the new pigments she’d found. Till they were sipping the Rylothian gin Rebec and Tahl had brought back for Eva. 

The cooling evening air was alive with bird-song as Eva brought it up. “Tahl, does the name Hugin mean anything to you?”

He frowned and shook his head, shrugging. Why should it?

“Troopers came today.” Eva went on, her voice soft and serious. “They were looking for you.”

He set his glass down and leant forward, hugging his knees, his eyes on the horizon. He’d known this was coming. And now it had, he was still poleaxed by it. 

“They said your name was Hugin.”

He took a slow breath in through his nose and signed slowly and deliberately. *My name is Tahl.* Whatever name lay on the other side of the shattered line in his memory, it no longer belonged him to. He wanted nothing from that life. Not at the expense of the life he had now.

“I know.” Eva nodded, eyes still watching the distant forest, the first stars starting to shine. 

Rebec looked stricken, glancing from her sister to her dearest friend. “What? What did they want?”

*They wanted me back.* Tahl sighed, watching Eva’s expression, even as he reached over to take Rebec’s hand. He could feel her start to panic. Hurting her, hurting either of them, was the last thing he wanted. 

“Yep, and I told them where to stick it.” Eva looked over at Tahl, at the way he’d pulled the paling Rebec into a comforting hug. “Unless you want to go with them?” 

*NO!* The gesture was swift and emphatic, almost enough to dislodge Rebec from his arms. *My place is here.*

Eva nodded. “Had a feeling you’d say that. Then we need to come up with a plan. They’ll be back.”

“We saw on the news.” Rebec’s voice was only a little shaky, a little less panicked now she knew Tahl didn’t plan to leave them. Leave her. “The Separatists are blaming the riots on Republic troopers. The ones we saw on Malastare.” 

“I saw that report too.” Eva muttered, no-nonsense and annoyed. “It looks like you featured too, Tahl.” 

Tahl nodded grimly at that. He didn’t like the idea he was being used as war-time propaganda. Like most people on Silvestri VII, he wanted no part of the war. The Silvestri system was nominally part of the Republic but only because no-one was interested in getting involved enough with the politics to change that. It was a little trade-port, of no strategic value to either side. *They’ll come for me. Because of that.*

“I’m afraid so.” Eva nodded, “But they won’t take you without a fight.”

Tahl shook his head. *They’ll kill you. They’re trained to kill. Without remose.*

Eva got the implication, even if Rebec didn’t. Tahl was one of them, or had been once. He was no less capable of killing. And it was clearly something that bothered him. 

*I should leave.* It was the only way to keep them safe. 

“I agree.” Eva held out a hand to still Rebec before she started to panic or protest. “Not for good. Just till we get this sorted. And not far off.” She considered, sipping her drink. “There’s a hide, up in the mountains. Bird-watchers use to use it when Talbot Farman ran tours out that way. I don’t reckon it’s been used for a year or so, not since he lost his leg being a bloody idiot over at Canyon Falls. Might be a good place to lay low. And it has a decent view over the port. You’ll be able to see a ship coming in before we do.”

“I remember that place.” Rebec looked up at Tahl. “It’s only a two-hour hike. Less if you hide a speeder on the valley floor and repel the cliff side. I could even run food out to you in the evenings.”

Tahl gave her a teasingly sceptical look. *I can cook.* A fair bit better than her. Rebec might be a brilliant artist, but when it came to things other than skin-painting, she could be worryingly distractible. As at least one oil-fire had proved. 

“I’ll got into town first thing and talk to Talbot.” Eva nodded. “You two sort out supplies. I expect they’ll be back within the week. We find out what they want, then we’ll start the serious planning.”


End file.
